The Prankster's Pupil
by Platypi-in-Ties
Summary: A companion piece to "Lessons". Missing scenes that happen away from the original plot. You do not have to read this in order to understand "Lessons"; it's just here for those who wonder what happens when Fred goes home :- Rated M to be safe.
1. The Morning After

**Hello! This is a companion piece to my story, _Lessons_. This will be a selection of scenes that happen away from the main plot (ie: in Fred's life; scenes that Hermione would not have been there to witness) to give the reader more insight into the story. I will be posting these scenes (hopefully) at the same time that I post the corresponding chapters of _Lessons_. I decided to post these seperately from the actual story in order to give readers the option of either reading Fred's scenes or just sticking with the original plot... Hope that all made sense... :-)**

**Disclaimer: The characters and the world is not mine**

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**Scene chronology: Between chapters three and four of** _Lessons_.

"Ah, the conquering hero!"

"Shut it."

"Didn't Mum ever teach you not to apparate half asleep? I think you've splinched yourself."

"What?" yelped the tall readheaded man, patting himself down in search for missing body parts. He stopped with his hand a few inches from the side of his head and glared at his snickering twin. "Git."

Fred laughed loudly and placed a cup of tea on the table in front of him. "Well sit down."

"When are you going to stop with the ear-related jokes?" Greorge grumbled, sitting down and sipping his tea.

"'Round 'bout the same time you do, which, if I know you – and, being your twin, I like to think that I do -, won't be for a very long time. Woke you up though, now, didn't it?" Fred smirked. "Thought you said you'd be back 'round midnight. What? Angie couldn't bear the thought of a few days without some Weasley?"

"Shut it," George muttered, but he was smiling. "Started as just a goodbye kiss…"

"And turned into a goodbye shag," Fred finished knowingly.

"What time is it?" George asked, pointedly ignoring his brother's last comment.

"'Bout 8:30. You'd better go shower and change your clothes. We have to leave soon and Mum'll fling you like a garden gnome if she finds out you spent the night with Angie."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." George got up and made his way drowsily to the hall shower. "Be out in a few," he called as he shut the door behind him.

Fred chuckled and took their cups to the sink. _I knew it_, he thought to himself, shaking his head in amusement. _Knew he wouldn't be home… Could have stayed longer at Hermione's…_ He shook his head more violently. Bad idea. It was awkward enough as it was without him sticking around past due.

He felt bad for her, he really did. Poor little innocent thing. Reduced to reading romance novels… Then again, maybe he should be feeling sorry for himself. She probably thought he was some kind of mad man now - yelling at her one moment, laughing at her the next, then offering to listen to her problems… Hell, _he_ thought he was a mad man.

_Merlin, I was rude_, he berated himself, thinking back to the night before. He sighed. "I'll just apologize to her today, no big deal."

"Apologize to whom, dear brother? You didn't put U-No-Poo in Granger's tea again, did you?" George asked, reentering the room, newly showered and fully dressed.

Fred started; he hadn't realized he had spoken out loud. "Course not. That was a one-time thing, and only because she insulted my laundry-folding abilities."

"Thought you said it was an accident."

"It was, but _that's_ not a good story to tell at parties. This version is much more scandalous."

George sighed. "Poor girl. We'd better get going." He stepped into the adjoined living room and stepped up to the fire, grabbing a pinch of green Floo Powder off the mantle. "See you on the other side."

"Right."

George disappeared with a shout and a burst of green flames.

He'd apologize. Then it'd be all better. Nodding to himself, he grabbed some Floo Powder and stepped into the fire.

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**What do you think? Yay or nay? Good idea? Bad idea? Indifferent? I'd love to hear your feedback :-)**


	2. The Joke

**Disclaimer: :-(**

**Chronology: Between Chapters 4 and 5**

"So there's this garden gnome - the muggle kind, with the beard and wonky hat."

"Oh, Merlin," George said, looking to the ceiling as if praying for tolerance.

"Let's call him… Brunhilda."

"But that's a bird's name! Call him… Bruce."

"No."

"Brock?"

"No!"

"Bertrand?"

"Shut it! It's funnier if the bloke's name is Brunhilda."

"But-"

"Do you want the version I told her or not?"

George rolled his eyes and gestured for Fred to continue.

"You killed it. I need to start over."

George gave a longsuffering sigh. "Then by all means…"

"So there's this garden gnome – the muggle kind, with the beard and the wonky hat… Let's call him… Brunhilda –Stop mocking me, git -. One day, Brunhilda was traveling the country side with his stupid fishing rod, because that's what muggle garden gnomes do, when he came across a lonely cucumber on the side of the road. Brunhilda was transfixed by the… beauteous cucumber and her… smooth green skin. He sidled up to her and asked 'Hey… Cu-cum-ber often?'"

Silence.

"….That is _the_ stupidest joke I've ever heard. And that includes the one Ron told about the squirrel when he was drunk off his arse at his birthday party last month."

Fred shrugged. "It worked, didnnit?"

"…This is why you have no girlfriend."

"Ah, ah, ah. I beg to differ, dear brother. Women swoon at the sound of my lovely, hilarious tales of jest."

"The name had nothing to do with the joke."

"But you have to admit, it's funny when the bloke's name is Brunhilda."

"You're an idiot."

Fred mimed taking off a large feathered had and bowed low, complete with superfluous hand waving and wrist twirling.

"That actually made her laugh?"

"Harder than McGonagall when we told her we were planning on pursuing careers as secretaries in the Department of International Magical Cooperations."

George raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Really?"

Fred nodded, attempting to look wise and philosophical. "Maybe even harder than Bill when he heard how we left old Pigblemishes. Do not underestimate the power of a stupid joke. Still skeptical, I see," he said, giving George's unbelieving expression a smug grin. "She said that was what made it so funny – said it was 'so pointless and terrible that it's hilarious.' I believe that I've won this round, twinnikins. That brings us to… Alfred 73, George 68. Looks like _someone_ will be doing all the laundry next month, and it will not be me."

"Bert?" George asked in mock joy, staring towards the now bright green owl sitting on his perch. "You didn't tell us you volunteered!"

The owl hooted happily and stretched his tiny wings, shifting from foot to foot, delighted to have been acknowledged.

"Nice try," Fred said, walking towards his bedroom. "Best get started. I've got a _load _of unmentionables that need cleaning."

Fred heard George make a noise of disgust. Grinning to himself, he shut the door.


	3. The Fight

**A/N: Thank you so much for all of your lovely reviews :-) I'm glad you all enjoyed the stupid joke, it took me hours to think of it (goes to show how good I am at humor...) **

**Disclaimer: Still don't own**

**Chronology: Between Chapters 6 and 7**

"What in the _bloody hell_ is she thinking?" Fred yelled, chucking a lime green pillow across the room and just barely missing his twin's head.

"I don't know, mate. It might help if you'd tell me what in Merlin's name you've been going on about," George snapped, leaning back into the bright blue couch with a huff of exasperation.

"It's not important."

George scoffed. "Right, _that's_ why you've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes, shouting at no one and chucking pillows at my head."

"Is she _mental_?" Fred shouted, ignoring his twin.

"Probably. No one in their right mind agrees to be Ron's girlfriend."

"How can she even think to ask me something like that? I mean… I know I said… But… Bloody hell…"

"What'd she ask you that was so terrible? If we really are in an incestual relationship, and if she can join in next time?"

Fred stopped pacing abruptly, pointing a finger severely at his twin. "_Not_. Funny."

"She didn't, did she?" George gasped as Fred continued to wear a hole in the floor.

"Of course not."

"Well then-"

"Just - shut it for a moment, would you? I need to think."

George raised his eyebrows. "Fine then."

"I- I can't do this… There's no way. I can't do that to-… I mean, how would I-… Without… But she looked so- And it's not like- If we never… It'd be okay… Right?..." He turned in the middle of his pacing and caught sight of George's raised hand. "Yes, George?" he asked in annoyance.

"Oh, am I allowed to speak now?" he asked with mock surprise, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Fred said, rolling his eyes.

"Why, that's _so_ kind of you. Really, I'm so flattered that you would take time out of your pointless rant to hear what I have to say. I'm all of a dither, really. I can't-"

"Did you have a question?" Fred demanded, glaring over at his twin.

"Yes. Why can't you tell me what's going on?"

"Because it's not important."

"Oi! Stop pacing! You'll wear a hole and fall into the storeroom, and there's already been enough damage done there today."

"You don't understand-"

"Oh, big shock there, seeing as you won't deign to enlighten me."

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" he roared. "Look." Fred brought his pacing to a halt and stood before George in the middle of the sitting room. "Hermione asked me to do something for her. Something… pretty big."

"What? Shag her so she'll be more comfortable when it matters?"

Fred's face began turning red as he opened and shut his mouth, searching for words.

"Fred?" George asked warningly.

"In a way… Not exactly… But…"

"Alfred Gideon Weasley, what the bloody hell did she ask you?" George asked slowly, his voice low and deadly serious.

Fred gulped as George got to his feet and took a step towards him.

"She-" he squeaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "She - … She asked me to… Oh, Merlin would you please sit down?"

"No, I will bloody not sit down!" George shouted, looking more angry than Fred had seen him in quite some time. "What the hell did she say?"

"She asked me to teach her!"

"Teach. Her. _What_?" George ground out through clenched teeth.

"About… About sex…" Fred answered, his voice small.

George took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself down.

"And do you plan to?" he asked.

"Plan to what?"

"Teach her." The edge was back in George's voice.

"I… Not… Not like _that_."

"You had better clarify what you mean right now, before I hex you," George warned. "I swear, if you-"

"No! No! I-"

"You may be my twin, but I'm not about to let you do that to R-"

"No! Listen to me!" Fred yelled. "You asked, now let me answer! What kind of brother do you think I am? What kind of _man_ do you think I am? We're supposed to be twins, here, aren't we? You're supposed to know me better than anyone else and all that other rubbish, aren't you?" Fred grabbed another pillow and threw it across the room, where it hit the lamp. The lamp fell with a loud crash, the pieces shattering everywhere. "I would _never_ do that to Ron."

The two twins stood glaring at each other in silence for a full minute, nose to nose, breathing heavily.

A loud, happy hoot from Bert broke them out of their stare-down.

George let out a large breath, seeming to deflate. "I'm sorry. I should have known- I _do_ know – you wouldn't… I just-"

"I know. I only-"

"I understand. But, you know-"

"Of course. But you've got to understand-"

"I do. I'm-"

"So am I."

They smiled each other, all tension forgotten. To an outsider, their exchange may have seemed odd, but it made complete sense to them.

"So," George said, clapping his hands and sitting back down. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Fred groaned, flopping into the purple armchair. "I mean, obviously, I can't really… You know. But I _did_ promise her that I'd help her… Be there for her… I could just… Explain things… verbally… Right?"

George raised an eyebrow. "Well, I suppose it _could_ work. Bit bizarre, but so are you."

"Thanks," Fred mumbled, staring contemplatively at the orange shag carpet.

"Forge?"

Fred looked up, meeting his twin's eye with a bit of trepidation.

"Whatever you do… Be careful. I know how you used to-"

Fred stood up abruptly and turned towards the hall leading to his bedroom door. "Don't worry about it. Not a problem."

"Fred? Fred!"

But the door had already slammed shut.


	4. The Rant

**A/N: Sorry for such a long wait! Thank you, KJS X-OVER for notifying me about my chronology mistake last chapter! I'll go fix it :-) **

**Chronology: Between Chapters 8 and 9**

"Who in the bloody hell does she think she is?" Fred exclaimed, gesticulating wildly with his bottle of butterbeer.

"More and more rants seem to be beginning like this…" George mused, taking a thoughtful sip of his own.

"'Don't fall in love with me'… Hah! As if…"

"She's got a point there… "

"Point? What point? 'Don't fall in love with me' as she flounces out the door. Just assumes it's a possibility! Something that needs to become a 'ground rule'! Presumptuous little-"

"Did she really flounce?" George asked, sounding highly amused.

"I – What?"

"Did she really flounce?" he repeated, enunciating clearly.

"That's really all you got from all of that…"

"It's an important question! Hermione, flounce? Fluer, yes. Ginny, maybe. But Hermione? _Flounce_?"

"Is it too late to fire you?" Fred asked, glaring across the table.

"I'm afraid I co-founded this shop, brother mine."

"Not fired from the shop," Fred growled. "Fired from being my brother."

"Aw, Freddiekins, you don't mean that!"

"Try me…" He took a long swig from his butterbeer. "'Don't fall in love with me'…" he grumbled. "Right. Me, fall in love with my brother's little big haired bookworm of a girlfriend."

George leaned back casually in his chair, balancing on the two back legs. "This is funny…"

"What's funny?" Fred demanded.

George smirked. "Watching you lie to yourself." He drained his bottle in one go and stood up from the table. "Goodnight!" he chirped as he stepped into his bedroom.


End file.
